Writing Prompt #15: Anger The Machine

My hands are shaking as the adrenaline courses through my body. I can’t control it, the involuntary action is an emotional response to the scenario I’ve been exposed to.

I’ve been here before, felt these same feelings burn behind my eyelids like an overheating microchip about to malfunction. Yet I am a prisoner, unable to escape, the answer too complex to figure on my own.

Is something wrong with my programming? Does the manufactured code in my grey matter contain obscurities unsolvable or even unnoticeable by humans? Am I a regular functioning being?

I feel a raw, white knuckled hatred but am completely immobile and mute. That is not the way to act. But my machine heart desires consequential aggression with no regard to the aftermath.

Breathe.

Remember your primary functions.

Inhale, feel the oxygen rush around your lungs, your unused muscles.

Exhale the poisonous carbon dioxide and rid your body of toxins.

Rinse and repeat until the symptoms subside.

The anger fades quickly the further I distance myself from the event, instead, it is replaced by waves of frustration: could haves, should haves and daydreams.

I should know by now that bullies act out for attention, to make themselves feel some sense of societal normality but the injustice is damaging my nervous system and I can feel my systems begin to shut down.